Time
by Acoustic Juliet
Summary: He grins and I grip the hem of my skirt, as I fall against the cushioning of the garage's old, threading sofa. [Ellie Nash]


Title: Time  
Genre: General/Drama  
Content: K  
Spoilers: Season 4, Canadian style.  
Summary: One-shot; "I was in love. But I was in sixteen-year-olds love." I eye him carefully. "Do you get what I mean?"

Author's Note: A scene between Craig and Ellie after he discovers Ashley won't be joining him for Senior Year at DCS. Poor kid, huh? Besides, I like a little Crellie in my soup, don't you?

Time

"You're a genius,"

I watch him as my brows furrow in an inquisitive manner. "Excuse me?"

"You're a genius," he repeats in verbatim.

I stand with my arms folded over my stomach, mouth slightly agape. "I heard you; I just didn't understand it."

He sighs in exasperation and moves directly in front of me, placing his hands on either side of my forearms, gripping slightly. "You - Are - A - Genius."

I groan and move away. "Craig," I sulk, "I heard the words."

"I know, I know," he breathes wildly. "And you are - you're a genius. I've - I couldn't even think of that the first time I read her e-mail! And now - oh, wow, Ellie - you're a genius!"

I bite my tongue. "What did I say, exactly?"

He grins and I grip the hem of my skirt, as I fall against the cushioning of the garage's old, threading sofa. "You said to _do something about it_. I mean - I was planning on wallowing in my own self-pity, but you - your idea is way cooler."

"Craig . . ." I begin slowly, "What exactly are you planning?"

He smiles begins to fade, as a grave expression reigns over his countenance. "I'm going to London."

"Craig, no . . ." I moan and shake my head, watching him pace before me.

"I have to, El. It's the only way," he says, kneeling in front of me, his head falling in to my lap. Instinctively, my fingers run through his unruly curls. "It's the only way we can be together."

I pause momentarily and adjust my positioning on the sofa. "Why be together at all, Craig?"

His head rises and I can see the anger etched in to his features. "I love her."

I sigh, "Do you, Craig? Or is it pure infatuation?"

"She's Ashley, and I love her. I always have." His voice is monotone.

"She's changed, Craig. You know she has; which is why she's still in London and not returning to Toronto." He moves backward and I stand abruptly. "Don't you understand?"

"No," he argues, shaking his head as he turns from my view. "Ashley loves me, and she'd want me there. It's - it's all her father's fault she's still in London. If - if she could be here with me, then she would. I know her, okay?"

I step forward and place my hand atop his shoulder, gripping it lightly. "And I know her better."

"No, you don't," he says demandingly.

"I'm her best friend," I state matter-of-factly. "And although you were her boyfriend, there are just certain aspects of her - of Ashley - that you'll never understand, and never grasp."

"So, you think she's gone for good, then? That's we're broken up and she doesn't love me anymore?" I can hear the distinct pain in his voice, and I want to -

embrace him; I want to reassure him - but the words are hindered.

"I think Ashley is growing up, and she wants more out of life than a seventeen-year-old boy can give her. She wants London, a career. Ashley's not meant for college - she's meant for _life_. Please understand, Craig."

He turns suddenly, his eyes streaming and out of focus. "You spoke to Ash, didn't you? You spoke to her! That's where all this is coming front! You spoke to her and now you're filling my mind with this crap, because you know something that I don't. . . . Ellie, tell me - I need to know."

His voice is desperate and I want to runaway.

But I stay, for him.

"Craig, she's growing up, okay? There are some thing's I can't tell you, because she's my best friend and I won't betray her trust."

He wrenches himself away from my grasp. "It's another guy, isn't it?"

I shake my head, "Craig . . . we're not going to play this game, all right? I'm not letting you ask me a hundred questions and I'm not going to answer them, either. Just . . . let it go. It's over. You and Ashley . . . it's over."

"I won't believe you!" he shouts, gesticulating wildly before plunging his fist in to the wall beside him.

"Craig . . . when I told you to do something about it, I meant your feelings." I amble toward him, taking his fist in to my hands, running my fingers gently over the opened wounds. "I'll help you." I blow lightly across the cuts, and he falls silent.

I glance upward and gasp, his arms encircling round my waist, pulling me to him, and I find that I can no longer speak coherently. _Don't do it, Craig . . ._

His breathing is ragged and his eyes unreadable, as he leans downward and presses his lips chastely to mine.

I pull away hastily, exhaling rapidly. _Damn it, Craig . . ._

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice pleading. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh, God, don't tell Ashley. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I whisper. "Don't think too much of it."

I turn to leave, as his hand clutched my forearm. "Wait," he says, "just . . . I shouldn't have kissed you."

My eyes close as I sigh. "You're right; you shouldn't have."

"I'm sorry, El," His voice is blatantly desperate and I want nothing more than to escape. "I miss her - so much."

I can see the tears begin to form in his eyes and I move toward him, reaching for him. His arm immediately envelope me as I embrace him round his shoulders, hushing him with countless whispers.

"I know you do," I acknowledge. "And she's heartbroken too. But she needs for you to move on, because . . . it's selfish if you don't. It's selfish if you refuse to let go of someone who already has."

"I want her home, El. I want her home."

"She is home, Craig. She's found her place . . . in London, and you need to accept that. You're not a part of her life anymore. And it hurts . . . I know it must hurt so badly . . . but I've been there; I've been abandoned, and it'll take time before you can wake up in the morning and realize that everything will be okay." I step back, placing the palm of my hand upon his cheek. "Because everything will be okay, Craig; everything _will_ be okay."

"How do you know?" he ponders aloud, whilst leaning in to the comfort of my hand against his skin. "How do you know everything will be okay?"

"I've lived it, Craig. A certain Sean Cameron, in case you've forgotten."

He chuckles lightly at my comment as his cheeks flush with color. "I'm sorry. I forgot about Sean." He pauses and inhales sharply. "How did you get over his - his leaving like that? He did it so suddenly."

I shake my head slowly. "I don't know. It just . . . it just happened. I went to sleep one night, crying, because I missed him so much; and I woke up the next morning, realizing . . . I didn't need him anymore. And I was okay."

"You were so in love, though."

"I was in love. But I was in sixteen-year-olds love." I eye him carefully. "Do you get what I mean?"

He nods his head reluctantly. "Yeah, I do."

"And there's so much more out there than Sean Cameron and Ashley Kerwin; just like there's more out there for them than us." I exhale sharply. "It's a terrible epiphany; but it's the awful truth, you know? And you'll . . . you'll learn to live without her; maybe not today . . . maybe not tomorrow or next week. It's going to take time, is what I'm saying. And you've got as much time as you're willing to take."

He huffs and nods. "Thanks, Ellie," he says, placing his hands inside of his pockets as he backs away.

"Anytime," I reply, grasping my right forearm with my left hand. "So, I'll - I'll see you around. School tomorrow, I guess."

"Yeah," he says. "Definitely, school tomorrow."

I stalk toward the doorway, the warm sunlight wrapping round me like a secure blanket, as I head down the open roads of De Grassi Street.

* * *

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